


Heat

by fringedweller



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Smut, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-16
Updated: 2011-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:43:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fringedweller/pseuds/fringedweller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Bastards</i>, Christine thought fuzzily. <i>That’s just like them not to share. That’s just <b>typical</b> of them and their hotness, keeping it all to themselves and not sharing with me</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat

Title: Heat  
Author: [](http://fringedweller.livejournal.com/profile)[**fringedweller**](http://fringedweller.livejournal.com/)  
Rating: R  
Warnings: None  
Pairings: McCoy/Chapel/Kirk  
Summary: _Bastards_ , Christine thought fuzzily. _That’s just like them not to share. That’s just **typical** of them and their hotness, keeping it all to themselves and not sharing with me_.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, making no money from this.  
Word count: 2788

Fic written for the [](http://mccoy-chapel.livejournal.com/profile)[**mccoy_chapel**](http://mccoy-chapel.livejournal.com/) comment fic meme [here](http://community.livejournal.com/mccoy_chapel/92076.html) based on picture 18. Come and check it out!

_It was hot here. When the hell had it got so hot?_

Christine tugged on the neckline of her uniform. The reception hall on Alteras was large and spacious, and the Alterans had laid on a splendid banquet for their new friends from the _Enterprise_. They had something that looked like a peacock that tasted like chicken, something that looked like a pineapple that tasted like grapefruit and something that looked like strawberries that tasted like...well, strawberries, actually.

Christine liked strawberries, and good one, non-replicated ones, were incredibly hard to find. Even the ones grown in the hydroponics bay didn’t taste like the ones that her grandmother grew in her back garden back home.

So, she may have had some of the strawberry-things. A lot of them. And one of the strawberry-thing drinks. Or two.

It was hot. Had she mentioned it was hot?

She stumbled through the room, looking for a window to stand next to, or a balcony to stand on, but all she found was more heat .This particular brand of hotness was sitting on a sofa, away from the main crowd in the room in a private antechamber, kicking back and drinking what looked suspiciously like Romulan Ale.

 _Bastards_ , Christine thought fuzzily. _That’s just like them not to share. That’s just **typical** of them and their hotness, keeping it all to themselves and not sharing with me_. She tugged at the neck of her uniform again as she watched the light of the hall shine from Kirk’s golden hair, his cerulean eyes shining with mirth as he joked with his friend. And God damn it, even McCoy was cracking a smile, something that she barely ever saw him do in sickbay. It changed his handsome face, made him even more attractive, if that was possible. Bastards.

Somebody cannoned into her as she stood staring at the combined hotness of the two men.

“Sorry,” gasped Sulu, who was stripped down to his bare chest and bare feet, his regulation trousers the only clothing he was still in possession of. “Didn’t mean to...hot,” he finished, staring at her with interest.

“Hikaru,” snapped a familiar voice, and a completely naked Chekov launched himself at the other man, forcing Sulu to catch him. Chekov climbed him like a tree, wrapping his legs around Sulu’s waist and kissing him passionately.

They stumbled away, all lips and legs and smooth, smooth skin, and Christine’s attention was drawn back to the heat emanating from the sofa.

“Hot,” she repeated, looking down at her clothes. “Too hot.”

She peeled her uniform dress up and over her head, and kicked off her boots. She unfastened her bra and dropped it on the pile of clothing building up at her feet.

There. That was better. The cool breeze from the air conditioning units made her skin prickle delightedly, and her nipples popped up, firm and erect. She was still drawn to the heat though, and she found herself walking over to the sofa.

 

 

 

 

“So then the Ambassador said to me...holy shit, Chapel’s naked.”

“What?” blinked McCoy, who was only half listening to his friend jabber on about his diplomatic brilliance. “No he didn’t.”

“No, Bones, I mean, naked nurse at ten o’clock.”

McCoy turned his head and indeed, there was his polite and efficient head nurse drifting languorously their way wearing only a pair of regulation black knickers. He’d spent considerable time imagining what she’d look like naked and tousled, but nothing he had pictured while exercising his right hand matched up to the sheer gorgeousness of the true original.

“Christine?” he said, sitting up straight. “Where are your clothes?”

“I’m hot,” she said by way of explanation.

Jim let out a low whistle. “You’re not wrong,” he told her.

McCoy clipped him across the back of the head automatically, but his heart wasn’t in it. Jim was right. As usual.

“Um, I mean, Lieutenant Chapel, I think it would be a very good idea if you put your clothes back on,” Jim said, glaring at McCoy.

“Oh, I don’t,” she said airily, drifting closer.

The sofa they were sat on dipped low, forcing them to recline backwards, Christine sat down directly on top of where their legs brushed together, and ran her hands along their thighs.

“Mmm,” she said dreamily. “You’re hot too, both of you.”

“Thanks,” Jim said, grinning.

Christine laughed and stretched out her long, long legs to straddle both men.

“But you don’t share,” she said, pouting and folding her arms across her breasts. McCoy stared at her ample breasts and sighed. They were perfection, and all he had to do was reach out and he could touch them...

“You get to play with each other, and you don’t play with me,” she continued, looking away. “It’s not fair.”

Unbidden, McCoy hand crept up the expanse of bare legs available to him. Jim was leaning sideways, a big smile on his face, his hand firmly on the bared flesh of her backside, palming it possessively.

“You’re right,” Jim said quietly. “We haven’t shared with you. That’s very bad of us, isn’t it Bones?”

“Yeah,” McCoy said, stroking the smooth skin. “Very bad. But the thing is, honey, I’m not so sure you know what you’re doing right now.”

“You think I haven’t thought about you?” she asked indignantly. “About both of you? Apart and together?”

“Oh boy,” McCoy sighed, getting a good look at her pupils for the first time. “Darlin’, what have you been eating tonight?”

“Blue chicken,” she giggled. “Spiky grapefruit. Strawberries. Lots and _lots_ of strawberries.”

Jim glanced at McCoy.

“I’m allergic to them,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d better stay away from things that look like them. I had the rest though.”

“I haven’t eaten,” McCoy told Kirk. “Not hungry. It’ll be the berries, you take my word for it,” he sighed.

“Just when I thought our luck had changed for the better,” grumbled Kirk, sliding a giggling Christine into McCoy’s lap. “I’m going back into the main room, see if anybody else has been snacking on those berries.”

McCoy found himself with a lap full of amourous, drugged-up nurse and he could only sigh with frustration as she snuggled into his shoulder and started nibbling at his ear. He had to avoid touching as much of her as he could; her mortification when she sobered up would be bad enough, but a sexual harassment charge for him would be even worse.

“Shit, Bones, it’s like an orgy out there,” Jim said, panting, as he reappeared in the little room.

“Let’s have an orgy here!” Christine said brightly.

“I think we need a few more people than we have,” Jim said, smirking. “Technically, this would be a threesome.”

“There will be no orgies, or threesomes!” McCoy barked. “Jim, go and find her clothes, and give me your communicator.”

“I’m not going back out there!” Kirk said indignantly. “Chekov just goosed me!”

“Be a brave little soldier,” McCoy ground out as Christine’s hands started to wander. “I’ve kind of got my hands full here.”

Muttering under his breath, Jim handed over his communicator and made a dash back out into the main hall. He returned several minutes later with one of the decorative hangings from the wall.

“It’s all I could find,” he said apologetically. “I think Spock is wearing her dress.”

“ _Spock_?” McCoy goggled at the image for a second, then shook himself. “Here, get her wrapped up in this while I contact the ship.”

As Jim tried to persuade an uncooperative Christine to drape herself in the embroidered artwork, McCoy informed an audibly amused Scotty about the mass reaction to a native foodstuff.

“We’re going to need to isolate people in their quarters until we can find out just the hell went wrong here,” McCoy said. “Get some people down here with blankets and transporter tags, and get them beamed directly to their rooms. Make sure the doors are locked.”

“Will do, Doctor,” Scotty said. “Is the captain..er...I mean, has he...”

“Not this time, Scotty,” Kirk said cheerfully.

“Damn, I had this week in the draw,” muttered the engineer.

“Sorry to disappoint,” McCoy said tightly. “Beam everyone at my immediate location into one of the private rooms in sickbay.”

“Understood. _Enterprise_ out.”

Between them, they bundled Christine into the material and wrapped it tightly, pinning her arms to the side of her body. The familiar dematerialisation beam shimmered around them, and they were deposited into one of the private exam rooms.

Christine examined the material.

“Bondage?” she smiled. “Kinky.”

“Oh for the love of God,” McCoy muttered as he grabbed a tricorder from the well-stocked equipment cart that Chapel had insisted be kept in all parts of sickbay, not just the main diagnosis area. Thank God for her foresight.

Jim kept her talking with some flirtatious banter as McCoy scanned the readout on the tricorder.

“It works like an intoxicant and aphrodisiac,” he reported. “She’s not acting against her will, but she’s not _compos mentis_.”

“Can you sedate her?”

“Yes,” McCoy said gratefully, loading up a hypospray. “But this would work its way out of her system in time, anyway.”

“Get your teams ready to sedate anyone coming back to the ship not actively...active,” Kirk said, choosing his words carefully. “Any couple that come back we can leave to it, for now.”  
McCoy nodded, pressing the hypospray into Christine’s neck.

“Cheater,” she accused, before her eyes slid shut and she fell asleep.

“I’ll get a nurse to get her into some clothes and monitor her,” McCoy said, and both men left to do their jobs.

 

 

When Christine woke up, she was faced by the bright ceiling lights of sickbay. Lisa Lawton’s cheerful face soon swam into view.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” she said good-naturedly.

“Lisa, how did I get here?” Christine asked, confused. “I was on the planet, I was at the diplomatic function...”

It all returned to her in confused flashes – the sense of heat, the great waves of lust, groping McCoy, suggesting an orgy to the captain...God, she just wanted to die.

“It was the berries,” Lawton said sympathetically. “Everyone who ate them got whammied. Eighty percent of those that beamed down were affected. Over two hundred people.”

“Sickbay must be packed,” Christine said, sitting up.

“We’ve got them in their rooms, either sedated with a medi-alert to let us know when they wake up, or, ah, letting the berries work their way out of their systems naturally.”

Lisa’s eyes were those of a woman who had seen things that people were not supposed to, and was forever scarred by the experience.

“I bet you won’t be so keen to be on the next diplomatic mission,” Christine joked weakly.

“You can say that again,” Lawton said firmly.

“I think I want to go back to my room,” Christine told her.

Lawton ran a practiced eye over her readouts.

“Your vital signs are normal,” she said eventually. “And your tox screen results are clear, so I’ll discharge you. Just make sure you drink plenty of water and rest. All affected crewmembers are off-duty until their psych evals are completed. “

“Fine,” sighed Christine. All sex-pollen and aphrodisiac-related incidents warranted time with the ship’s psychiatrist. She had only been on board for eight months and she had already petitioned Starfleet medical for another two psychiatrists for her team. The _Enterprise_ had a habit of stumbling into situations like these. That was the reason that it had been dubbed “the Love Boat” by other ships in the fleet, and probably the reason why so many officers wanted to be transferred there.

She went back to her cabin, locked the door and fell on the bed.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

What the hell had she been thinking, propositioning her boss and the captain like that? Two men that were off limits in just about every way, up to and including the fact that everybody on board knew that they were a semi-official couple?

 _Way to go, Christine_ , she thought bitterly. _Care to make an even greater fool of yourself than you already have? Oh wait, you can’t._

She was deep into a heavy self-flagellation session regarding her life in general, her love life specifically and her baseline state of uselessness and dissatisfaction when the door chimed.

“Who is it?” she called, dabbing at her eyes.

“It’s McCoy,” a familiar voice called back. “Can I come in?”

“Do I have to?” she asked.

A familiar chuckle sounded through the door.

“I can just override the door locks with my code, but I’d feel better if you let me in.”

“I’m too embarrassed,” she told him through the door. “Go away.”

She heard him sigh heavily, and mutter to somebody. Before she could blink, the doors to her room slid open revealing not only McCoy, but Kirk also.

“Surprise!” the captain said cheerfully, walking in uninvited.

“You didn’t tell me he was here,” Christine hissed at McCoy.

“He thought you wouldn’t want to see us both together,” McCoy said reasonably.

“Well, he was right,” Christine snapped. “Get out.”

“No,” said Kirk, throwing himself onto her bed. “Make me.”

He smiled at her, one of the patented, knee-trembling Kirk grins, and she could immediately feel her resolve weakening.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed, sweetheart,” McCoy said kindly, reaching out a hand to rub her arm gently.

“Easy for you to say,” Christine snapped, wishing she had the strength to shake off his gentle touch. But it felt good, so she didn’t. “You didn’t get high on alien strawberries and try and force yourself on people.”

“You didn’t force yourself,” Kirk piped up. “You were just incredibly inviting. We were fools to pass up the opportunity.”

“But we don’t take advantage of people under the influence,” McCoy said firmly.

“I know you wouldn’t,” she said quietly. “I should be thankful for that, at least.”

“Your tox screens came back clear, didn’t they?” McCoy asked.

“CBC all in the standard range – RBC five point five, MCV ninety, MCH twenty nine with a platelet count of three hundred and twenty thousand,” Chapel said immediately. She had accessed her medical file as soon as she got back to her quarters. “The CMP reported back within normal parameters based on my last physical.”

“All that medical speak is incredibly hot,” Kirk said to the air, somewhere behind them. They both ignored him.

“So, you’re back in control of yourself? Not under any compulsions?” McCoy questioned.

“Not unless you count wanting to stick my head out of an airlock,” she mumbled. “No. No compulsions.”

“Good,” he said in satisfaction. Then he stepped forward and kissed her.

The kiss was firm, and his arms came up around her body to hold her in place. She struggled briefly with the shock of the unexpected move, but quickly relaxed into the embrace, opening her mouth and twining her arms around his neck.

A firm hand between her shoulder blades made her break the kiss, and she turned in confusion to see Kirk, staring at her with lust in his big baby blues.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” she said, blushing, then he moved forward and kissed her as well. McCoy’s mouth moved to worry the skin at the junction of her neck and shoulder as Kirk claimed her mouth.

Christine moved one of her hands to his hair, and carded it gently through her fingers.

“Wow,” she said eventually, as they kiss ended. “I didn’t think...I mean, I thought you two...”

“We are,” Kirk told her, moving in for another kiss. “But that doesn’t mean that we don’t like to share.”

“You want to share me?” she asked, not quite believing her good luck.

“For the longest time,” McCoy told her, letting his hands slip lower to places that definitely weren’t professional but were very pleasing. “But only with each other.”

“He gets very possessive,” apologised Jim. “If you wanted to play with us, you’d have to promise only to play with us.”

Christine wound a hand into each of their hair and gripped tightly, causing both men to inhale sharply.

“I get possessive too,” she warned them, kissing one, then the other. “Nobody else but me, or I walk away. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” muttered McCoy, his hands tugging at the scrubs she wore. “Get this off.”

“Yes, ma’am,” promised Kirk, his hands slipping up under her top to palm her breasts. “God, I love it when women don’t wear a bra.”

“I had one,” panted Christine. “And a uniform. What happened to them?”

“Don’t worry,” Kirk said firmly. “Spock will buy you a new one.”

“Why would Spock mmph mmph mmmm...”

Her question was answered, much, _much_ later, but by then she had forgotten all about asking it.

[ ](http://www.educationatlas.com/)  
---  
[educationatlas.com](http://www.educationatlas.com/)


End file.
